The First Time Shoto and Meiko Made Love
by micah-l-lucas
Summary: Shoto first met Meiko during their hectic villain-filled days at U.A. He had never expected to see her again after graduation—and then she started working under the same Hero Agency as him. Much to his surprise, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep his hands off her. *CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18*


Meiko Tanoshi had what most considered to be a pretty amazing Quirk. Known among the Endeavor Hero Agency as Psystorm, she could move things with her mind and enter the minds of others at will. Perhaps that was what had endeared her to Shoto back at U.A., knowing that the both of them had Quirks with dual purposes. Shoto recognized her immediately during their first encounter at the Hero Agency. Their eyes passed over one another, his heterochromic ones over her blue ones, and for a flash recognition showed in her expression before she went back to her professionalism, listening to updates from the latest resolved catastrophe in the area.

After the heroes dispersed, Shoto felt her gravitate towards him. She looked different from when they were at U.A.; a little older, of course, but her two long braids had been cut off and her dark brown hair now fell just above her shoulders. He slowed his pace exiting the room, allowing her to catch up to him.

"Todoroki-kun," she greeted as she fell in stride behind him, a small smile spreading across her face.

"Psystorm," he said, unsure whether or not to use her hero name. He gestured above his shoulder. "You cut your hair."

Meiko nodded, giving a little huff of air. "Yeah, I learned the hard way that braids weren't really practical for dealing with villains. Too easy to grab. Also, one of them caught on fire, so…" She mimed a scissor-cutting motion with her index and middle finger. "I think I like it better short, though. It's easier to take care of."

"Yeah," Shoto responded. He felt himself shifting his weight. "Someone grabbed one of them?"

"Oh, yeah, some street thief grabbed one and slammed me into the street during a chase once. It took me a minute too long to recover and he got away. I beat myself up over that one for a week, at least…"

Meiko trailed off before looking up at Shoto—she had always been a little shorter than him—and stammering out a disjointed noise before speaking again. "Um," she said, "you know, you don't have to call my Psystorm. You can just call me Meiko. I mean, you've known me way longer than everyone else here."

"Oh," he said. "Alright. Meiko."

So they weren't going to address it. They both remembered—looking each other in the eyes, it was like communicating without speaking. _I know that you know what we did. I know that you know that I remember. You know that I know. Are you going to mention it? Well, _I'm _not going to mention it. We were kids. It was nothing. Right? Right?_

_Was _it nothing? Standing in front of her, he couldn't help but feel something. Aside from the elephant in the room, there was definitely something there. Something not easily described, something almost solid, something that crept up his back and made it a little more difficult to breathe, that made him want to clench his fists and caused his stomach to twitch. She had to know it was there. He was worried someone across the room would know it was there, would pick up on it like a bloodhound following a scent.

"You can call me Shoto," he said once he realized he'd been silent for a beat or two too long. "A lot of people do now."

Meiko smiled at him again. "Alright, Shoto." She took a step back as if to signal the conversation's end. She made to turn away before changing her mind and facing Shoto again. "Hey, Shoto?"

"Hm?" Shoto responded. He'd been in the process of walking away.

"It was nice to see you again."

Shoto nodded. "Yeah," he agreed.

"Okay. Bye." Meiko began walking backwards in the direction opposite of Shoto, giving a wave before spinning on her heel and disappearing from the room.

Shoto continued on his own way, the sudden presence of Meiko dredging up some old U.A. memories. It had been a while since he'd crossed paths with anyone from U.A. Midoriya, Bakugo, even Momo he hadn't seen for a year, at least. Fitting that he'd run into Meiko, of all people. She seemed less shy than she'd been in high school. From what he remembered she'd been a quiet, blushing student who couldn't take a compliment without becoming flustered. She liked to stick a little close to him, he remembered, and she'd smile if their eyes met.

At the end of the day, he was happy to encounter her, even if it gave him a feeling he couldn't quite identify.

* * *

How long does it take them to end up this way? It was inevitable. Shoto should've known that. It started off as catching up, filling in the blanks of the years since U.A., and then when they were all caught up there was still so much left to say. So much they wanted to say. It was clear that Shoto was a bit awkward and Meiko worked gradually to pull him out of his shell. When he invited her over one day, both of them knew what was bound to happen when she got there.

She sat on the couch with a respectable distance between the two of them. They had gotten home from dinner not long before, another night of exchanging stories and reminiscing about U.A. and lots of other things they'd never said to one another before. He flipped on the TV, though thinking back on it, he doesn't know why, neither of them were really in the mood for television. They were both waiting. Waiting for the other to make the first move, to give in to the tension surrounding them.

It became clear early on that Meiko wasn't going to break. She would willingly watch the television broadcast well into the night until Shoto was ready to sleep, and then she'd say goodnight and go on her merry way without ever having moved an inch closer to him. Meiko was too afraid to misstep, too afraid of misreading Shoto's signals, to be the first to make a move. Something about prodding around in his head to try and learn his intentions felt disgustingly wrong, so Meiko left his thoughts alone. Shoto realized that if one of them were going to give in to temptation, it was going to have to be him.

Soundlessly, Shoto leaned in and planted a kiss on Meiko's neck, followed by another, and another. Meiko closed her eyes and brought her right hand up to cup the back of Shoto's head, gripping his two-toned hair as he pressed his lips to her neck and moved down to her collarbone.

"Shoto," she said, her voice a whisper.

Shoto pulled away to meet Meiko's eyes. "I want to do this properly," he said. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," she responded, her tone still low.

Shoto grazed his hands down her back and tipped her downwards until she was on her back and he was on top of her. They spent a bit like this, pressed against one another, lips meeting and hands roaming down each others bodies. When his right hand snaked underneath her shirt, Meiko pulled away and started to tug the fabric over her head. Letting the shirt drop to the floor, she reached behind her back and unhooked her cloth bra, which fell away to reveal small breasts and pink, hardened nipples.

Shoto spent a moment taking in her body before it occurred to him to also remove his shirt, which he did in one swift motion. He promptly tossed the shirt aside, and glanced at Meiko as if to ask for approval before his hands started to caress her, his thumbs skirting delicately over her nipples. Meiko's own hands began to roam, her chilled fingers exploring the crevices of his abdomen, toned from all his physical work as a hero.

Meiko took his face in her hands and kissed him over and over, his cheeks and his lips and his forehead and his scar. "So handsome, so handsome," she said between kisses. When she pulled back, she caressed his cheek with her thumb, taking extra care to stroke the deep red blotch covering his eye.

Shoto started kissing at her collarbone and gradually worked his way down to her chest, careful to pepper her breasts with kisses before taking one of her nipples in his mouth. Meiko drew in a sharp inhale of breath and gripped the back of Shoto's head. He sucked and swirled his tongue around slowly, careful not to nip at her with his teeth. He pressed his lips around her and pulled away, Meiko giving a light gasp before Shoto moved on to the other to give it the same treatment.

Meiko let out a soft moan and bucked against him. Shoto suppressed a groan; his cock was growing stiff in his pants and having her grind against him wasn't making it any easier to maintain his composure. He shifted his weight from knee to knee and positioned himself between her legs. Shoto pressed himself against her and started to roll his hips, grinding his erection against her. Meiko grunted desperately, squeezing her thighs against his hips.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," she whispered, her voice coming in breaths. She could feel arousal pooling between her legs and couldn't help but meet Shoto's thrusts with her own, feeling his hardness rub against her lips.

Shoto stopped briefly, his breath heavy, to shuck his pants down his legs and maneuver them off, leaving him only in a pair of black briefs. Meiko took a moment to do the same, revealing white cotton panties that had grown damp between her thighs. Shoto lightly dragged his thumb over her clit, and she whimpered from her position on the couch.

Trying hard to keep her breathing even, Meiko reached forward and palmed Shoto through his underwear. On the outside, Shoto was doing a good job maintaining his composure, but on the inside he was nearly ready to burst. How long had it been since someone else had touched him? Without pulling his underwear out of the way, Meiko curled her fingers around Shoto's cock and started stroking, slow and gentle.

Shoto, who couldn't help but give little thrusts into her hand, was busy using his thumb to knead at her clit through her underwear. Judging by the sound of her breathing and the feel of wetness under his fingers, she was ready for more than that. He tugged her underwear down past her hips and thighs, revealing wet lips and neatly-trimmed pubic hair. Shoto gave a soft moan as he felt arousal shoot through his body before he slipped his index finger inside of her and rubbed at her clit with his thumb.

"Oh, Shoto," she moaned, turning her head to the side, pressing into the couch.

"Does that feel good?" he asked.

"Yes, Shoto, it feels so fucking good."

He could feel himself starting to pulse. Meiko's stroking was a little erratic, possibly thanks to Shoto slipping his fingers in and out of her and massaging her clit. Shoto bucked into her hand, desperate to cum but holding back. With his free hand he caressed her body, sliding his hand down her ribs and abdomen before gripping the hip nearest to him. He felt her clenching around his curling index and middle finger, whimpering and closing her eyes.

"Shoto," she moaned, pleading. "I want you inside me. Please."

Shoto withdrew his fingers from her, and at the sight of her swollen pearl he pushed away the idea that he should lean in and please her with his mouth. Meiko feverishly grabbed at his briefs and shucked them down past his pelvis. Shoto's cock sprung up from its confines, nearly slapping his abdomen. The tip of his cock was already leaking pre-cum, and his pubic hair, like the hair on his head, was split in color right down the middle.

Shoto positioned himself in front of her entrance before slowly pushing himself in. He drew in a sharp breath as he spread her open, feeling her walls pulsing around him.

"Oh," he said, groaning softly. He wasn't one to make a lot of noise during sex.

He thrusted his hips against her, and she thrusted back; it didn't take the two of them long to find a slow, comfortable rhythm. Shoto kept his eyes on Meiko, whose mouth was open slightly and eyes were closed. With the hand he wasn't using to prop himself up, Shoto ran his knuckles along her cheek. Delicately, he pressed his lips to hers and slid his tongue into her mouth. Meiko allowed his entrance, bringing a hand up to stroke his cheek as their tongues explored one another and the two moved together as one.

"Mmm," Meiko moaned, her breasts bouncing to the rhythm of their thrusts. "I—I can feel you pulsing…"

It was true; Shoto had been on the brink of an orgasm since he'd first penetrated her. Though he was maintaining the same slow, sensual pace he'd started with, he could feel the tickle of arousal skirt its way up his back as he pumped himself in and out of her. He had to know that Meiko was satisfied before he allowed himself to cum.

"Oh, you feel so good," Shoto said in a voice barely loud enough for Meiko to hear.

Meiko's trembling legs tightened around Shoto's hips, and she felt a thought escape his mind and into hers. She took his face in her hands. "Look at me, Shoto." Breath heavy and pupils dilated, Shoto met Meiko's gaze. "I know you wanna cum. I'm so close, Shoto, if you cum I'll cum with you. Come on baby, cum for me. Come on… come on…"

That was enough to send him over the edge. Shoto's eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth opened in a soundless moan as he came, pulling out and spurting three long streams of cum over Meiko's stomach. Meiko bucked her hips upwards once, twice, three times, her walls clenching where Shoto's cock had been. Shoto dragged a curled hand up his shaft to massage out the rest of his arousal, and then he was spent, laying his head in the crook of Meiko's neck and delivering soft kisses.

"Meiko," he moaned, his voice muffled from being pressed into Meiko's neck. Shame flooded at his cheeks; he'd cum on her. He hadn't wanted to cum on her.

Meiko stroked his hair and giggled. "You made a mess." When she saw the look on his face, she spoke again. "It's all right, baby. I'm just glad you got there."

Shoto craned his neck over his shoulder to peer at his seed leaking over Meiko's stomach. "I'll clean it up," he promised.

But in that moment, the two of them only layed there, each drinking in the presence of the other.


End file.
